It’s a lovely quiet morning. Yoga, meditation, coffee, an article linked by a friend, some reading on a very perspective-altering web site, some handful of very still moments – no music, no typing, no conversation; it is a seriously quiet morning, punctuated periodically by the nearby wail of the train passing by. The day is alike an unopened box, contents unknown. What will I find when I open the box?

What's in the box? What of the unknown?

What’s in the box? What of the unknown?

My evening last night ended gently, after hanging out with my traveling partner for some lovely chill hours. My night ended with love, and my traveling partner observing that he loves what I’m doing in the studio. (I do, too, and I love that he appreciates me as an artist.)

My morning and my day are as an unopened box. I’ve no idea what it holds, and the possibilities are numerous. I meditate on boxes, packages, packaging and contemplate how the unexpected can be so consequential – or so irrelevant. I think about ‘baggage’, and consider the box as a metaphor, and recall some number of boxes I have recently opened in life: boxes with needed household supplies, boxes shipped to me out-of-useful-sequence, boxes containing more than I expected or something that surprised me, boxes that were mostly filled with air, boxes that were too heavy to lift without help, all varying in size, most a pretty plain squarish rectangle-y sort of shape – what other shape do boxes come in? Isn’t that funny about a plain brown box? How similar they all seem to be on the outside? I rarely consider the box itself when a package comes; I tear through the tape, jerk open the flaps and get at the mysterious contents with haste, generally. Why so much force to overcome a humble box? Why the rush?

I am likely noodling around contemplating boxes-as-a-metaphor trying to understand something very different indeed… I stay on my path, practicing good practices, and gently sorting out how to most easily and comfortably do so, while also enjoying my traveling partner’s time here. I feel encouraged noticing that I’m managing that pretty neatly, so far, for now. I find myself wondering what his experience is, and making a mental note to be attentive for the things he says that tell me – like his observation that he likes what I am doing in my studio, his enjoyment of my cooking, his consideration for my time, space, and practicing, and his day-to-day tenderness. I smile, and remind myself to also just ask. 🙂

Meditation is a favorite practice; it's like opening a box.

Meditation is a favorite practice; it’s like opening a box.

Today I’ll ‘unpack this box’ with as much appreciation for what the box is, as for what goes into it. Today I will practice being awake, aware, and considerate. It’s a good day for good practices.